


when the dawn breaks

by stormhund



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Blood, M/M, Minor Character Death, Non-Linear Narrative, POV Alternating, Survival, exes to whatever it is you both become when faced with the end of the world, like really minor character they're not even a hq character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:26:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29700522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormhund/pseuds/stormhund
Summary: When Miya Osamu woke up this morning, his biggest problem was how to face his ex again.Now, by 11:05AM, his biggest problem was how to keep the both of them alive.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Miya Osamu
Comments: 12
Kudos: 88





	when the dawn breaks

**Author's Note:**

> yeah, what the hell, right? let's do this.

**4:42AM (Present)**

Miya Osamu wraps the bandage over his left abdomen tighter, wincing when the pressure of the cloth presses harshly against the wound. Beside him, Akaashi reaches out, knuckles white from holding on to the torn clothing, but Osamu shakes his head.

“I got it,” he reassures him, offering a small smile. Akaashi nods in silent understanding, letting go before grasping the crowbar and kitchen knife at his feet. His fingers are in equally dismal states, skin peeling where gunpowder burned and blades cut. Osamu had half a mind to take them in his grasp, but touching Akaashi would only make things more difficult than they already are. He settles for flexing and relaxing his fingers around his bandage, testing the durability of it. “You ready?”

“When you are,” Akaashi replies. He looks off into the distance, eyes blinking rapidly as his throat bobs with the words he swallows.

 _Fuck it,_ Osamu thinks before breaking his self-imposed rule. He tilts Akaashi’s chin with his better hand, forcing him to meet his gaze. “Hey. Keiji. Look at me.”

Even with his head turned towards him, Akaashi refuses to meet his gaze. It’s only when Osamu runs his thumb over the swell of Akaashi’s cheekbone does he relent. Osamu smiles again, hoping it could conceal his own fear and alleviate Akaashi’s.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily, remember?” he says. And, at the risk of earning a slap to the face, Osamu leans forward and brushes his lips over Akaashi’s forehead. He feels fingers gather the collar of his shirt, pulling him forward and closer to Akaashi’s proximity, and the unspoken gesture almost makes Osamu lose his own nerve. When he pulls away, his words are as much for himself as it is for Akaashi.

“It will be alright.”

* * *

**8:42AM (20 Hours Before)**

“It will be alright.”

Osamu looked to where Atsumu sat on the driver’s seat. His twin regarded him with a peculiar expression, eyes alit with caution even as the corners of his lips softened in an almost smile. Osamu blanched and unfastened his seatbelt.

“Encouragements don’t suit you, ’Tsumu,” said Osamu, climbing out the passenger seat.

“Denial suits you less,” Atsumu scoffed as Osamu opened the door to the backseat. Osamu ignored his remark in favor of rummaging through the box before him. Everything Akaashi had left behind was cradled in its four walls: several volumes of Shonen Jump, various pieces of clothing haphazardly shoved at the bottom, a toothbrush set, some bags of candies he’d kept in the fridge–

“Stop stalling,” called out Atsumu. As emphasis, he honked the car horn twice, and Osamu clenched his teeth together. He dared to sneak a glance at the apartment building behind him and was relieved to find that the blinds over Akaashi’s window held.

“Recount Akaashi’s things when you’re actually _with_ him, not when you’re doing whatever it is you’re doing here,” Atsumu added. “You’re wasting both of our time.”

With a snort, Osamu hauled the box in his arms. “I’m not stalling.”

“Whatever.” Atsumu paused, watching him retrieve a maroon sweater draped over the backseat. When he spoke again, the exasperation in his voice was gone. “Last chance. You sure you don’t want me to wait for you? I can always go to Shinsuke’s at a later time.”

Osamu threw the sweater over his shoulder and closed the door. He leaned over the passenger’s seat window and gave a thumbs up. “Like you said, it’ll be fine. I’ve still got to check on my Tokyo branch, and that might take a while. Just swing by the restaurant when you’re done spending the day with Kita-san.”

“’Kay.” Atsumu waved goodbye and began rolling up the window. Osamu turned, his feet taking him halfway to the apartment entrance, before he heard Atsumu honk on his car once more. “But for the record,” he shouted, “I still think you’re trying to score a one last sex with Akaashi!”

Osamu nearly dropped the box in his hands as he whirled around to flip him off. But Atsumu was already driving away, head thrown back in laughter as he left his brother alone to face his ex one last time.

* * *

**9:31AM**

Osamu had been pacing outside of Akaashi’s doorstep for thirty minutes.

Not that he’d been counting or keeping track. It’s just that every time he checked his watch (which was often) he would notice how the seconds seemed to tick by slower and slower. It felt like he’d lived an eternity out in the hallway, yet it felt like he needed more time to gather his courage and knock.

Osamu bit his fist and turned his back towards the door. “I can do this,” he whispered to himself. “I can do this. I just have to give Keiji’s things back to him and then I can move on for real.” He turned his wrist so that the face of his watch looked right at him. “Thirty three minutes. This is getting ridiculous.”

“I agree.”

Osamu spun immediately, the rush of his movements making him trip on his own feet. He righted himself before crossing his arms over his chest. “Hey! Akaashi. Nice seeing you here.”

Akaashi Keiji stood by his open doorway, a look of near neutral displeasure on his face. His hair was still moist, fresh from a shower, and the top buttons of his polo were unbuttoned. He watched Osamu with pursed lips as he fastened his own watch over his wrist. “How long have you been pacing there?”

Osamu raised a brow. “How long have you known?”

“Since I saw Atsumu’s car.”

“Oh,” crooned Osamu. He leaned forward and rested an arm by the doorway. “So you were waiting for me. Now who’s more nervous?”

Akaashi narrowed his eyes at their proximity but took no step back. “So you admit that you’re nervous?”

“Typical of you to reply to a question with a question.” Osamu sighed exaggeratedly as he bent down and gathered the box. “This is why we broke it off.”

Akaashi snorted. “Among other things.” He turned and walked back into his apartment, and Osamu took that as enough of a sign to help himself in. As Osamu left his shoes by the genkan, his eyes automatically found the little table by the entrance, where a set of their pictures used to be.

They were all gone now, replaced by a simple vase of plastic cherry blossom branches.

The sight stung more than Osamu cared to admit, but he shook off his hurt and followed Akaashi deeper into his apartment. He set the box down on the floor of the couch and slid off the maroon sweater from his shoulder just as Akaashi reappeared with his own box in his arms. He placed it against his cushions and gestured towards it. “Your things.”

“And yours,” pointed Osamu.

Akaashi hummed before they turned their backs on one another, both of them settling into a quiet understanding of appraising all the things they’re returning. Osamu grit his teeth, half of his attention on the box before him and the other half on the man behind him. Even now, their movements were familiar, bodies moving in accordance to all the habits they’ve learned to acquire these past years.

Osamu hated it. He hated how much time he had spent with Akaashi, and he hated how much time it would take for him to learn to be without him from here on out.

“Everything’s here,” announced Akaashi, disrupting the thoughts he was mulling over. “Are you done?”

Osamu ignored him to rummage through the last of his things. Then he donned on his cheery facade and faced Akaashi. “Almost. Where’s my favorite hoodie?”

Akaashi crossed his arms over his chest. Normally, the gesture meant that Akaashi was a little uncomfortable, that he would be speaking with uncertainty in his voice. But Osamu knew him well enough to know that it meant he was hiding something this time. “I’m still...looking for it.”

Osamu whistled. “Seems uncharacteristic of you to misplace something.” He leaned forward and rested his lips against his ear. “You know, if you still want me around, Keiji, just say so.”

“ _Don’t call me that._ ”

Osamu recoiled at the vitriol in Akaashi’s tone. Even the blue-green of his eyes were liquid fire, anger making them burn brighter than they usually did. “And what’s wrong with calling you by your name?”

“You don’t deserve the privilege of calling me by my _given_ name. Not anymore.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” replied Osamu, even if his point was anything but.

“And don’t be difficult.”

“Fine. If you insist.”

Akaashi’s glare lingered on him before he finally looked away. Quietly, he began hauling the Jump volumes out of his box, hands thumbing absentmindedly over the pages. Without looking up, he added, “If there’s nothing else, you can go.”

“Of course.” Osamu bowed before backing away. And, because he was still bitter at how sour their exchange had been, he added, “Yet another thing you’re good at: chasing away people as soon as they inconvenience you.”

Akaashi slammed several of the volumes down against his coffee table. “I’d say overstaying your welcome and overstepping your boundaries in my home are a little more than an inconvenience.”

“Akaashi, Akaashi,” said Osamu in a singsong voice. “What happened? You used to love my company and my banters.”

Akaashi’s steely demeanor faltered. There was a crack of something soft, something uncertain, something _hurt_ , before he shuttered himself off. “Used to. There were a lot of things I used to love about you.” His fingers found themselves in a nervous puzzle before he rubbed at his eyes. When he looked at Osamu again, there was only defeat. “Now go. I’ll mail your hoodie when I find it.”

Osamu should have felt triumphant. The only reason he had been picking on Akaashi in the first place was to try and rouse some emotions from him, to find any indication that what happened between them bothered Akaashi just as much as it did Osamu. But seeing him like this made Osamu nothing but empty.

There was no victory, he thought, not when it came at the expense of hurting the one you loved.

“Alright.” Osamu quietly shoved his feet back into his shoes. He was halfway out the door when he paused and turned. “For the record, you can keep the hoodie. I never really–”

His next words were lost to a startled gasp as he was pulled backwards, his feet entangling over one another as he crashed to the ground. He looked up when he felt another person’s weight straddling him, and his eyes widened to see a young woman hovered over him. Her eyes were wide and panicked as she looked at him through the hair plastered on her face. Despite her frail appearance, she easily lifted Osamu so that their noses were almost brushing. “Help me,” she pleaded.

“Uhm,” stammered Osamu, wrapping his hand around her wrist to help loosen her grip against him. “I’m sure we can talk about this more appropriately.”

He pressed against her wrists. When her fingers relaxed, Osamu pushed her off him. He rolled to his stomach to climb back on his feet when he noticed the pool of blood on the floor. His eyes widened in alarm before he caught light and shadows moving against its reflection. Strong arms wrapped chokingly around his neck, and Osamu gasped as he clawed against them. “Help,” the woman breathed against his ear. “I just want a taste of you.”

“Fuck off,” Osamu tried to say, but paused when the words did not come from his lips. When he looked up, he found Akaashi standing over them, an umbrella in his hand. He shoved the pointed end against the woman, successfully breaking away her grip from Osamu, before pulling Osamu to his feet. Osamu trembled upon seeing all the blood he smeared against Akaashi’s polo. His lips were already murmuring stunned apologies when Akaashi pushed him so that Osamu was now standing behind him.

“Stay away from him,” warned Akaashi, voice uncharacteristically hostile. Osamu was about to tell him that there was no need for such a tone when he took another glance at the stranger. He saw then what he had missed before: her left hand was a mangled mess, skin torn and blood steadily pouring from the places where bone was exposed.

And her eyes. Right before them, her eyes were turning a violent shade of red, colors alternating between brown and crimson as if it couldn’t quite decide which hue to settle on. 

_What the fuck was happening?_

“Help,” the woman repeated. She righted herself slowly, body unfurling so that she knelt on the ground, and tried to use her other hand to touch upon Akaashi’s foot. When she grimaced, Osamu noticed how sharp her canines were. “Please help me.”

Akaashi took a step back, one hand finding Osamu’s instinctively. “I’ll call for help,” promised Akaashi, the other hand reaching out to grip his open door. “Just stay where you are. Try to apply some pressure to those wounds.”

“No.” The woman began to cry. She placed her head in her hands, nails scratching against her scalp. “I’m not like the rest of them. I won’t turn out like them.”

At this, Akaashi faltered. “Like what?”

But Akaashi’s hesitation was enough of a window for the woman to rise to her feet. She gave them a grin of hysteria before she leapt forward. She attempted to make a run for them, but Osamu moved first.

He didn’t think twice anymore. He slammed the front door shut and turned the lock, leaving the woman screaming and pounding against it.

* * *

**3:18PM**

Osamu threw himself against the door, shoulder crashing first against the barricade, but the locks on the other side only rattled in protest before stilling in silence.

Osamu slammed a fist against the rusting surface, drawing metal flakes to fall onto the floor. “Damn it!” he cursed, taking several steps back to begin his running start anew. But he had barely positioned himself to a sprinting form when he was yanked back.

“Enough,” hissed Akaashi as Osamu crashed into him. “You and I both know it’s pointless.”

“It’s not pointless when I know they can hear us in here!” Osamu snapped, voice rising towards the end to punctuate his truth. He attempted to land a kick against the door, but Akaashi continued to reel him in.

“Don’t,” Akaashi repeated. “If not for us, then for _them._ ”

Osamu followed the direction Akaashi nodded towards, but he didn’t need to look to know who he was referring to. Behind them, huddled in separate clusters, were seven other runaways. They were all survivors who had been on the road up until they met the border that required anyone passing by to undergo a quarantine for several hours. Osamu cared little for them; anyone who stayed alive this far must have seen the horrors of what they left behind, and their appearances proved it. But among them were two children, a boy just on the cusp of his teenage years and a little girl who had just turned seven. They held one another, backs pressed against the corner of the truck’s four walls, bodies trembling as they stared at Osamu in fright.

Osamu glanced at Akaashi, and Akaashi raised his brows.

Rubbing his face, Osamu sighed before relenting. Sensing that he would cease his attempts to get out of their makeshift prison, Akaashi retreated and reclaimed his spot beside the children. He was already conversing with them, asking them questions about where they plan to go after their quarantine was lifted, when Osamu slumped beside Akaashi. The children immediately flinched, bodies curling in on themselves further.

“I’m sorry if I scared you,” offered Osamu, resting his head back against the cool metal of the wall. When the children cast Akaashi dubious looks, Osamu suppressed a smile. “Don’t take it out on him. He’s nothing like me.”

“I’m not scared of you,” the girl said in a tiny voice. She shivered, eyes darting to the locked doors. “I’m scared of _them._ ”

“The military?” Osamu waved a hand. “Don’t be. They may be fools for locking us here, but they’re only here to protect us and–”

“Not them,” replied her brother, wrapping his arms protectively around his sister as she continued to tremble. “ _Them._ ”

Osamu and Akaashi exchanged another glance. “Well,” said Akaashi slowly, eyes still on Osamu. When he looked at the children again, he had his best smile on. “Like my friend here said, the military will be here to protect us. They’re only quarantining us for a few hours before they let us go. In the morning, we’ll wake up and everything will be okay. We’ll think of today as just another bad dream.”

When they shivered again, Osamu finally scooted forward. He held his hands out, palms up as he coaxed them to place their hands in his. “Come here. I know it’s a little cold here, but my hands are still pretty warm.”

The children hesitated. When they continued to stare at them dubiously, Akaashi followed suit and held his hands out. “It’s okay. We’re not like them, see?”

The children finally relented. The girl came first, pushing herself from her brother’s embrace before crawling forward. She placed her hands against Osamu’s, and Osamu flinched at the iciness of her fingers. He laughed. “It’s no wonder you’re feeling so cold. You’re–”

Osamu froze just as his fingers closed around the dorsal part of her hand. Distantly, he was aware of Akaashi saying his name, low and urgent. But all Osamu could focus on were the uneven ridges his thumb could feel, skin against broken surface, fingerprints caressing the places where teeth had punctured skin.

The girl shivered again. When her fingers curled around Osamu’s hands, the strength she poured onto her nails were stronger than a child’s could ever be.

_We’ll think of today as just another bad dream._

Osamu looked down.

* * *

**9:59AM**

Osamu backed away as the stranger began to knock insistently against Akaashi’s door. They flinched with every growl heard from the other side, and when Osamu placed a gentle hand on Akaashi’s shoulder, he almost slammed the umbrella against him. “Hey. It’s me. Easy.”

Akaashi looked up at him, and it’s only then that Osamu realized how terrified Akaashi truly was. Akaashi reached out, trying to wipe the blood off of him. “Osamu–”

“It’s not mine.” Osamu turned his arms, inspecting to make sure that he indeed came out unscathed. “It’s not mine,” he repeated slowly, more for himself than anyone else. “But I have a very bad feeling about this.”

Akaashi turned to the door, where the lady’s screams began to rise in crescendo. “Yeah,” he agreed. “So do I.”

They continued to stare at the door, the lady’s furious pounding growing more erratic and more hysterical by the second. Osamu pulled Akaashi back as he held the umbrella out in defense, afraid that her strength would break the door down any time.

Until, just as suddenly as it began, it all came to a stop.

Osamu blinked, brows furrowing together, before he noticed the blood seeping from the cracks on the doorway. The pool of blood earlier began to stain Akaashi’s genkan, its rich hue creeping towards them slowly until Akaashi’s shoes began to absorb their liquid.

“She lost a lot of blood,” whispered Akaashi.

Osamu hummed. “I don’t think that’s what took her down, though.”

Both of them waited for another minute to pass. Then Akaashi tiptoed forward, bare feet avoiding contact with the blood as much as possible. When he turned the lock, Osamu put a hand over the door. “ _Akaashi,_ ” he blurted out.

Akaashi hesitated, but his fingers remained over the doorknob. “We have to check.” He held up his umbrella. “I’ll be careful.”

Osamu didn’t budge, and Akaashi used the force of opening the door to make him step back. When the door was finally opened wide, they found the space devoid of any life, the air just as still as when Osamu arrived. The only indication that anything was out of the ordinary was the blood all over the floor and the walls, handprints and footprints smudged into streaks that tapered off to the left side of the hallway.

Quietly, Akaashi began to follow the trail of gore.

“What are you doing?” Osamu hissed.

Akaashi looked over his shoulder. “What if it came after someone else? Don’t we have to help them?”

Osamu made a face. “Who cares about anyone else?”

Akaashi adjusted his grip against the umbrella. “Don’t worry. I’m just–”

But Osamu didn’t care what he was about to say, not when he could see the lady running up from behind him. “ _Keiji!_ ” he screamed, voice cracking with his panic.

Akaashi turned immediately, the umbrella coming up before him to act as a shield just as the lady pounced on him. They both toppled to the ground, Akaashi’s feet sliding against the blood as he landed harshly on his back. He lifted the umbrella so that it was pressing against her neck just as she began to snarl and bite towards his direction.

Osamu turned away, assessing everything in the genkan. When he spotted a crowbar behind the umbrella stand on the corner, he retrieved it before running back out into the hall. His movements drew the stranger’s attention, and she looked up to assess him before letting Akaashi go. As she climbed off of Akaashi to run towards him, Osamu swung the crowbar in a wide arc. The metal handle caught against her abdomen, knocking her over to a bent position. Osamu drove his elbow over the back of her head, wincing when the force of it elicited the sound of bone cracking against bone. The lady convulsed against the floor, rolling over so that she was facing Osamu.

This time, her eyes were all red. Her teeth were sharp and spittle flew from her lips as she snarled at him, foam gathering at the corners of her mouth as she attempted to pull him down. Even her complexion had turned mottled and bloated, the hues shades of yellow and violet that defied the usual course of things.

It was unmistakably _inhuman._

Osamu drove the crowbar down over its head, splitting open a vicious gash on it. When it continued to growl, undeterred by its injury, Osamu closed his eyes and continued to strike the monster with the crowbar.

Over and over and over again.

When Osamu raised his weapon to hit her once more, he found a pair of hands resisting against his movements. He opened his eyes and found Akaashi looking at him, brows drawn in a worried arc.

“It’s okay,” he said gently. “You’ve done enough.”

Every inch of him trembling, Osamu tore his gaze from Akaashi to look at the corpse between them. Osamu took in the mangled sight of gore and guts, muscles beaten and bones crushed. Her head was ruined beyond recognition, nearly flat against the surface.

When its eyes opened and found Osamu’s, Osamu drove his crowbar one last time, its sharp end impaling one of its eyes. Only then did it stop moving completely, limbs twitching before they fell limp and cold.

“That’s something you don’t see everyday,” said Osamu in a faux laugh before he turned aside and regurgitated the contents of his stomach.

Akaashi was beside him immediately, rubbing soothing circles over Osamu’s back. Distantly, Osamu was aware of Akaashi’s voice, words strung together in comfort that reached his ears but failed to process in his head. Instead, he continued to heave until there was nothing left of him to give.

He pressed his forehead against the wall, gasping for breath. He used the unblemished part of his hand to wipe the corners of his mouth.

“Why,” he wheezed hoarsely, glancing at Akaashi, “don’t you _ever_ listen to me?”

Akaashi’s expression darkened. “You really wanna talk about this _now?_ ”

Osamu turned away. “Whatever. Never mind.” He straightened slowly, testing the strength of his knees and making sure they wouldn’t buckle anymore. But when he inhaled a breath, he smelled the rotten stench of the body behind them and retched anew.

“What _is_ that?” demanded Osamu, shuddering. “That’s something right out of a horror film.”

“We can go back inside and check,” said Akaashi, still patting Osamu’s back. “I’m sure there’s bound to be some news about this.”

“I think it’s more concerning if this was in the news. That would mean this problem isn’t exclusive to your apartment.”

Osamu straightened slowly, one hand still on the wall for support. Akaashi attempted to help him up, but Osamu waved him away.

“Thank you, by the way,” confessed Akaashi. His fingers rolled the umbrella in his grip. “I was wrong. Are you–are you feeling better now?”

“Yeah.” Osamu reinspected his limbs. “Wasn’t bitten or anything. You?”

“Same.”

Osamu nodded before turning back to Akaashi’s open door. He almost vomited again when he attempted to take several deep breaths, but he was distracted by the sound of glass breaking outside.

Adrenaline demanded him to move, legs ignoring the carnage in favor of reaching the hallway’s window. Akaashi did the same, and when they peered outside to survey the scene, they found several people running away from the mouth of the street. Trailing after them were monsters just like the one lying dead on the floor behind them, all of them in varying states of decomposition and monstrosity.

“Akaashi.”

“I know. We can’t stay here.”

Osamu looked at him. “How does a trip to Hyogo sound right now?"

* * *

**3:27PM**

Akaashi was the first to act. Overtaken by his denial, Osamu could only watch as Akaashi covered his hand over the girl’s, shielding her bite marks from everyone else in the caravan. He placed his other hand over her temple, expression falling as he confirmed what Osamu already knew.

“We can’t stay here,” whispered Akaashi to Osamu. “It’s only a matter of time.”

“Wait,” the boy cut in, voice just as low as theirs. He moved forward to take his sister back in his arms, earning a groan of protest from heras Osamu let her go. She continued to reach for Osamu’s warmth until her brother embraced her again. “I’ll die before I let anyone hurt her.”

Osamu’s lips had gone dry, words evading him as he stared at the two children before him. “Don’t worry,” he finally said, lying through his teeth. “Nothing’s going to happen to her.”

Osamu stood up, backing away until he returned to his place by the doors of the truck. He lifted his fist to knock against it once more, but he found himself just staring at where his knuckles gleamed with the fresh blood of the child.

He tried to review everything he knew about their current situation. It wasn’t much at all. Before they had left Tokyo, all they had to guide them were what they saw, what they experienced, and what they read online. Nobody knew where it began, just that there were suddenly pockets of people turning and biting others in the capital. The symptoms were all the same: eyes that turned red, skin that turned lifeless, teeth that turned into knives. To be bitten was to be infected, but it took the death of the host for the other to come alive.

With the way things were moving now, it was only a matter of time before the girl’s fever overtook her and killed her. Then everyone in the caravan would be as good as dead too.

Osamu finally brought his fist down on the metal door. “Please.”

He lifted his hand and slammed it down again.

“Help!”

Again.

“Help us! Please!”

And again.

“Let us out!”

Osamu raised his hand again, but his movements were stopped when he heard a scream behind him. Osamu whirled to find that one of the survivors had risen to his feet, fingers pointed in the direction of Akaashi and the children. “The girl! Look at her hand! She’s been bitten!”

The other survivors were on their feet immediately, voices rising over one another in a panicked frenzy. Osamu glimpsed Akaashi shielding the kids’ bodies right before he was shoved aside. The boy screamed as two of the survivors ripped his sister from his grasp, pulling the little girl by the hair.

“Hey!” Osamu called out, trying to push the other spectators. “Stop that!”

The girl continued to cry as she was hauled to the front of the truck. The men grasping her finally pushed her into Osamu’s arms, eyes furious as he spat, “And you! You held her, didn’t you? How can we be sure you aren’t infected too?”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” shouted Osamu, even as he stood before her protectively. “You have to be bitten to become one of them!”

“We don’t know that for sure!” one of the other survivors piqued up. “It’s only been half a day! We don’t know everything there is to know about this disease!”

The girl continued to cry. Osamu gasped when her fingernails bit against his skin, the strength of a grown adult enclosed in those little fists. “Onii-chan!” she cried. “Onii-chan! Where are you?”

Summoned by her cries, her brother emerged from the crowd, Akaashi in tow. She immediately reached for him, tripping onto the ground from her grief. The boy fell to his knees immediately, gathering her in his arms before whispering soothing words to the crown of her head.

Akaashi stood beside Osamu, pulling him back so that they were pressed against the door. They watched as the rest of the survivors began to squabble with one another, some of them debating in raised tones on what the best course of action would be while others chanted to kick the children out. Through it all, the girl continued to cry, wailing even as her brother promised her false safety.

Until her wail caught in her throat, her high-pitched cry turning into a cough. She stilled in her brother’s arms, eyes wide as she looked up at him. “Onii-chan,” she whispered.

Then she fell on her side, her saliva mingled with blood as she drooled on the floor. Everyone in the truck began to scream, hands pounding against the walls as they begged to be let out. The girl continued to cough, the residue turning only more and more crimson. Her brother patted her back, tears streaming down his face as she urged her to let it all out, to stay strong.

Osamu couldn’t take it anymore. Despite himself, he began to kneel down and pull the boy away from his sister. He could hear him shouting, begging the boy to let go, to stay away from her, when the sound of gunfire punctuated through the noise. Osamu ducked as metal pieces rained over him, arm immediately coming up to shield the boy’s head. 

The gunfire drew everyone to a frozen position, all eyes now on the hole above their heads where afternoon light streamed in. Osamu heard the sound of a gun cocking and he looked to find one of the women holding one. Everyone around her parted, desperate to put distance between them and her, as she stepped forward and aimed the gun towards Osamu’s direction. Her chest rose and fell in deep, unsteady breaths, and her hands trembled as she held the weapon. “Don’t even think about it,” she threatened. “I want your hands up where I can see them!”

Osamu and Akaashi were the first to comply, raising their arms in surrender. The boy hesitated, unwilling to let his sister go. She had gone completely still, blood trickling from the corner of her lips. When the woman pointed the barrel to his direction, he finally set his sister down gently before following Osamu and Akaashi’s examples.

“We were patted down for weapons before being quarantined,” said Akaashi slowly, either to diffuse the tension or to buy them some time to think, Osamu couldn’t tell.

The woman shrugged. “It’s easy to steal a gun from a soldier if their attention is elsewhere.” Her expression and her words were nonchalant, but her actions betrayed her fear.

Osamu inclined his head, and the gun immediately shifted to him. He held up his hands higher. “Look,” he said sternly, “they’re only children.”

“One of them is about to become something else entirely,” she countered. “And when she does, it’s over for all of us. You know this too, don’t you?”

From the corner of his eye, he saw the boy look at him. Akaashi closed his eyes in defeat, pursing his lips as if to deny what they all knew. But Osamu had promised the boy that things would work out. Whether it be in the form of a lie or a truth, he had to try to uphold it.

“Don’t do this,” insisted Osamu. “At least not here.” His eyes shifted to the boy.

The woman’s expression softened in understanding, even as her hold on the gun tightened. “I’m sorry. But to survive is to throw your humanity away.”

“Then we won’t be any better than they are.”

She snorted. “I’m not trying to be better than them. I’m not trying to be better than _anyone._ I’m trying to _live._ ”

“Please,” the boy blurted out. “She’s my sister.”

The woman smiled sadly. “And I’m somebody’s sister, too.”

She widened her stance, tightened her finger against the trigger, and fired.

* * *

**10:49AM**

By the time Osamu and Akaashi reached the street, a light array of baggage on their backs and makeshift weapons in their grasps (the crowbar for Osamu, a kitchen knife for Akaashi), the only thing Osamu heard were the echoes of distant gunshots. Then came the silence, the world eerily still as they stood on the street and surveyed their surroundings.

When they had resolved to pack only the necessities and shed their uncomfortable clothing of polo and jeans for sweaters and sweatpants, the world outside of Akaashi’s window was in chaos. Every snarl heard from Akaashi’s window made them flinch, and every scream whittled their resolve a little more each time. It drove Osamu to near madness, to be able to hear things he only once heard of in the movies, to see things he only once read about in stories.

Because in a span of several minutes, their world had completely taken a turn.

There was nothing normal about having to scrub against blood-stained skin, watching the water run from clear to maroon. There was nothing normal about wrapping magazines and rolled up newspapers over their arms and legs, packing tape reinstated over them so that their makeshift armors would hold. There was nothing normal about the social media rumors of people rising from the dead after having been bitten. There was nothing normal about seeing the said undead outside.

And there was most definitely nothing normal about Osamu and Akaashi calling a ceasefire to their strained relationship in favor of working together to escape the city.

They stood frozen for several heartbeats, ears attuned to pick up on anything other than the rustling of the leaves. When they heard the distant wails of sirens, the far cry of people’s screams, the growls of something animalistic and inhuman, Osamu finally moved again, jogging down the street. Akaashi followed after him, feet uncertain before eventually catching up to Osamu’s pace.

“Just out of curiosity,” began Osamu. “How did it end?”

“How did what end?”

“Udai-san’s manga on zombies. What was its resolution?”

Akaashi frowned. “You didn’t read the ending of his manga?”

“The story didn’t seem like my type.”

Akaashi rolled his eyes. “Unbelievable.”

“The hell are you mad at me for? We weren’t even dating when the story concluded!”

“It was a fairly popular manga, all things considered.”

When Osamu rounded the corner, he saw it first. Akaashi followed after him half a second later, and all attempts at conversation died with his gasp.

Standing between them and the parking lot with Akaashi’s sedan were bodies, all of them lying broken on the ground. All of them were covered in blood, and most of them were missing a limb or a fair chunk of their torsos. But the worst part was the way a fair number of them were still drawing in shaky breaths, chests rising and falling in uneven patterns as they breathed the last seconds of their lives.

Akaashi’s breaths were deep and erratic, and Osamu’s own composure was slowly starting to unravel. He ran his fingers through his hair, grasping against the strands before promptly letting go with an exhale.

“The hero sacrifices himself.”

Osamu tore his eyes from the carnage. Akaashi was still staring at the scene, his face devoid of any color, when Osamu replied, “What?”

“In Udai-san’s manga.” Akaashi took another deep breath before turning to him. “It ends with the protagonist’s death.”

“Reassuring.”

“I’m just saying–”

“Yeah, I know what you’re saying.” Osamu grabbed Akaashi’s hand. When Akaashi attempted to pull away, Osamu only held on tighter. He tugged them both to the other side of the street, where the corpses were further from them and the parking lot closer to their path. “Udai-san’s precious hero’s story might have ended that way. Ours is still being written. You can’t get rid of me that easily, you know.”

Akaashi fingers tightened against Osamu’s. He said nothing more after that.

Together, they quickly made their way to Akaashi’s car. When one of the corpses convulsed on the ground, they hastened their pace until they finally reached their intended vehicle. Akaashi unlocked his car as quietly as possible, and both of them sighed in relief when they entered without finding any more trouble.

As Akaashi started the car, Osamu dialed Atsumu’s number. He picked up on the second ring, voice smug.

“So I take it things aren’t going so well if–”

“Atsumu,” cut off Osamu immediately as Akaashi pulled away from the parking lot. He signaled for Akaashi to take the other exit, in the street away from where they had come from. “Are you alright?”

Even through the phone, Osamu could hear Atsumu frown. “Why wouldn’t I be? I’m still on the way to Shinsuke, though.” From the other end, he heard Atsumu pull on the breaks. “What’s wrong? Do you need me to come get you?”

“No!” said Osamu too quickly. Akaashi glanced at him, and Osamu forced himself to sound a little less panicked. “No. Atsumu, listen. Something weird is happening here in Tokyo, and I don’t want you anywhere near here in case it blows up to be something bigger. Tune in to the news, call Kita-san, make sure he’s safe, and if he is, keep driving there.”

“’Samu, you’re scaring me,” Atsumu said slowly. “And you’re not exactly making me want to keep driving to Shinsuke. I’m turning around and–”

“Please don’t,” Osamu cut in. “Please. I’ll be there. I’ll be in Hyogo by tomorrow. I just...need you to trust me.”

The silence on the other end stretched for several seconds longer than Osamu would like. He was about to reiterate his words when Atsumu’s breaks unlocked. “Tomorrow then.”

“Tomorrow,” he promised. “And do what I said. News. Kita. Drive. I’ll keep you updated.”

“I will. And Osamu?”

Osamu’s thumb was already hovering over the red button to hang up the call. “Yeah?”

Atsumu was silent for a while. Had it not been for the gentle whirring of the engine on the other end, Osamu would have assumed that the call had been disconnected. “Stay safe,” he finally said.

Osamu pursed his lips, collecting his bearings to make sure that he wouldn’t sound as scared as he felt. He smiled, even though there was no one to see him but Akaashi. “You too, ’Tsumu.”

This time, Atsumu hung up first. Osamu stared at his phone, memorizing the time (11:05AM) over Atsumu’s icon (a candid photo of him with a mouthful of onigiri) before his screen turned dark. Then Osamu shoved his phone in the pocket of his pants and stared out the window.

In the time he spent conversing with his brother, Akaashi managed to drive them away from the chaos of his residential street. As they put mile after mile of distance between them and the horde of corpses and zombies they’d left behind, Osamu could almost pretend that the peace outside would remain unbroken, just as it always had been.

_Zombies._

Osamu rolled around the word in his mind, letting his thoughts shape its form. But the more he tested its sound, the more bizarre it turned out to be until the ridiculousness of their situation translated into his actions. His laugh started out as a concealed chuckle, muffled sounds that slowly rose into a mirth of hysteria. Akaashi gave him a sideways glance and frowned. “You think this is _funny?_ ”

“Oh, yeah,” Osamu replied, voice unsteady from the adrenaline. He buried his head in his hands. “I think it is.”

Osamu didn’t need to look at him to know that Akaashi’s displeasure only deepened. But he couldn’t care less about his approval right now. Because when Miya Osamu woke up this morning, his biggest problem was how to face his ex again.

Now, by 11:05AM, his biggest problem was how to keep the both of them alive.

* * *

**3:36PM**

When the woman pulled the trigger, everything happened all at once.

To Osamu, it happened as if they were all moving through time in slow-motion, movements at decreased speed so that everything was seen in perfect clarity. He saw the boy’s eyes widen, not too young to understand what comes next. He saw him abandon his pretense at surrender to shield his sister with his body. He saw Akaashi’s lips move, a shout rolling from his tongue just as he stepped in front of the children.

 _“Just out of curiosity,” began Osamu. “How did it end?”_

_”The hero sacrifices himself.”_

Osamu never thought of himself as the hero nor the protagonist of a story. But when it came to Akaashi, he couldn’t care less. Ex or no, he never had to think twice, not when it came to protecting him.

The woman pulled the trigger. Osamu moved.

And the last thing he remembered was a firework of pain at his side before he fell to the floor.

* * *

**One Week Ago**

Osamu watched the sunlight paint Akaashi’s skin with golden dapples, the circles ebbing across his body as he moved around his sedan. It softened the blow of his hurt, if only a little, to see him wrapped around the warmth of day, untouched by the coldness of their heartbreak. But when Akaashi finally stopped to look up at him, Osamu realized how wrong he was.

This was hurting Akaashi just as much as it was hurting him.

Osamu tried to replay their fight in his mind. He tried to convince himself that his confrontation was justified, that Akaashi coming all the way here to Hyogo only for him to remain distant because of his work was enough of a reason to break things off. He tried to tell himself that his patience had run out several disagreements ago, that today was just the final straw. He tried to reason with himself that Akaashi felt the same, that his confession of being unable to stand any more of Osamu’s childish quips and half-serious responses were validations of their decision.

He failed. Every time he tried to think this was for the best, he failed.

“So this is it,” said Akaashi. His tone was devoid of any emotion.

“It is,” replied Osamu. His tone was just as careful.

Akaashi drummed his fingers on the roof of his car before finally opening the driver’s seat. When he turned the keys in the ignition, Osamu crossed his arms over his chest. “Drive safely,” he said, the last of his blessings before Akaashi’s departure made everything final.

Akaashi lifted his glasses and placed them on top of his head. “Thanks,” he murmured. He tried to smile, but Osamu caught the way his grief turned the corners of his lips down immediately.

Osamu’s own lip trembled, and he bit against it to keep himself from falling apart.

“Goodbye.” Akaashi closed the door, shifted into reverse, and drove out from the Miyas’ driveway.

“Goodbye.” Osamu swallowed his pain, watched the car retreat into the highway, and stayed. He couldn’t turn away even if he tried.

* * *

**4:49AM (Present)**

Osamu pats himself down, rechecking that he’s got everything in place for their plan. Beside him, Akaashi bounces on the balls of his feet, testing his weight and making sure that his feet would hold their own when he finally makes a break for it.

“Before I go,” Osamu begins, checking the bullets left in the gun they’d stolen earlier, “run me down on our signal again.”

Akaashi picks up his crowbar before sheathing it in the makeshift bag strapped across his back. “Three knocks,” he says. He taps against the ground with his knife, three pats evenly spaced together. “Three knocks in an equal rhythm. No more, no less.”

“Good.” Osamu switches the safety off the gun. “Do _not_ open the door otherwise. I don’t care how similar the knocks will be. As long as I’m alive, I’ll be able to give you the right signal. If you hear anything else, you run and you leave me behind. Got it?”

When Akaashi doesn’t respond, Osamu looks at him. “ _Akaashi._ ”

Akaashi swallows and looks up. Then he leans forward, arms wrapping around Osamu in a fierce embrace. Osamu staggered back in surprise, bracing his hand against the ground, as Akaashi murmurs against the crook of his neck, “I can’t. I can’t say goodbye to you. Not again and not like this.”

The words break what little is left of Osamu’s resolve. Osamu drops the gun before returning Akaashi’s embrace. He buries his nose in the space where neck meets shoulder and breathes in Akaashi’s scent. Then he pulls Akaashi away gently but firmly. “Keiji, I need to know you’ll be safe.”

“And I need to know you’ll be too,” Akaashi counters. “Promise me. Promise me you’ll come back to me alive.”

Osamu purses his lips. “I–”

“Promise me,” insists Akaashi. “Or we’re calling this whole thing off. ‘Where you go, I go. Where you stay, I stay.’ Remember?”

Osamu raises his brows, the words tickling something he had long forgotten and buried. He huffs out a laugh, amazed that a memory untouched by the horrors they’ve gone through could resurface in a time such as this. He smiled. “Okay. I promise.” He places his hand over Akaashi’s and squeezes. “I’ll be there by dawn. No earlier, no later.”

Akaashi stares at Osamu, his gaze burning away all the lies and the facade to get to the core of the truth. Finding that his words ring true, he lets go. Osamu rises to his feet first, retrieving the gun in one hand and offering the other to Akaashi. As he helps him to his feet, Akaashi adds, “And I promise too. I’ll be okay. Just focus on coming home to me.”

Osamu nods. Akaashi is already turning away when Osamu tugs on his back. “No good luck kiss?”

Akaashi looks over his shoulder. “Come collect it when we’re together again,” he challenges. Then he begins to jog away, his limp slowing him down a fraction, but his pace strong and true as he heads towards Kita’s house.

Osamu watches him go, feeling an odd sense of déjà vu. He watches him go until the shadows and the moonlight blend in a blur, washed away into clarity when his tears roll down his cheeks. Osamu bites against his lip until he tastes blood, until the pain of it eclipses the knot in his heart.

Osamu blows out a breath, wipes the tears from his face, and turns away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i listened to bastille's songs on repeat while writing this. i feel like if i ever find myself in a zombie apocalypse situation and i have to choose one artist to listen to, i'll choose them.
> 
> anyways, many thanks to [ricci (aka ao3 twindualities)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/twindualities) for reading this through and for supporting me always. couldn't have asked for a better beta than a fellow osaaka and zombie lover.
> 
> please look forward to akaashi's POV for the next and last chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> [@megfushiguro on twitter](http://twitter.com/megfushiguro) • [@stormhund on cc](http://curiouscat.qa/stormhund)


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